"I was wrong," announced John Watson as he entered the debris strewn sitting room of 221B Baker Street.

Sherlock was in his favourite armchair which had miraculously survived unscathed from the recent explosion. He sat in silent contemplation with his fingers steepled. Having been rudely interrupted from his reverie, he looked up in annoyance. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"All this time I thought you were harbouring a secret torch for Irene Adler. After what happened yesterday, I know I was completely wrong. It's obvious now that the only woman you want is Molly Hooper."

"What makes you say that?" questioned Sherlock innocently.

"It doesn't take a super-sleuth like you to figure it out when the signs are all there in plain view. I heard the tone of your voice when you feared for Molly's life. I witnessed you smashing that coffin to bits. Until that particular test, you remained calm and collected in the face of danger and difficult decisions."

The doctor cast his mind back to the previous day's events. He had never seen Sherlock exhibit such desperation before that day. All of a sudden, Sherlock had seemed more human than ever before, and it was quite a revelation to discover this was even possible. Reflecting further on other past events involving Molly, he continued.

"I don't know why I didn't see it before. To my knowledge you have never apologized to anyone besides Molly, and you would never allow anyone else to tell you off the way she did after your descent into drugs."

"I have told you that was all done for a case, and I am perfectly fine now. I've been clean for weeks," defended the detective. "Discovering Molly was no longer engaged was rather illuminating, too. As for Irene Adler, she was an interesting enigma but ultimately just...a distraction."

"So are you going to admit that I'm right about our pathologist friend?" queried the doctor. He wondered briefly whether Sherlock would be able to express his true thoughts. He was quite surprised when his friend replied insightfully.

"I'm still trying to process this myself. Up until my sister's 'emotional context' game, I was content with the way things were with Molly. She was my friend and someone I could count on to be straight with me. It seems I have not been honest with myself."

There was a note of surprise in his voice as he continued, "That girl is in my blood; she has somehow managed to find a place in my heart, a heart I never knew I had."

John gave a wry smile. "It's about time someone made you feel what the rest of us 'normal' people go through when it comes to love. You, my friend, are lucky, though. Molly already admitted that she loves you. All you have to do is figure out how to move forward."

Silence ensued for several minutes as Sherlock closed his eyes and became lost in thought once more. When he finally opened his eyes, it was to find his friend still there, sitting across from him and patiently waiting for the detective to return to the present. "So, have you decided what you are going to do?" questioned John.

"Yes," responded Sherlock. "Of one thing I am absolutely certain - I can't risk losing Molly. I know she deserves so much better than me, but I hope I can become worthy of her love. I'm not the type of man who would be comfortable playing at being a boyfriend, as you probably recall with my poor attempt at it with Janine. Besides, I've spent seven years getting to know her. The only solution is to ask her to marry me. That way I can do away with all the unnecessary frivolity that goes along with being in a new relationship."

John stared at Sherlock incredulously. "Don't you think you should at least kiss the girl first before you jump off the deep end?"

Sherlock waved off the question dismissively. "Details, details. I'll make sure I kiss her before I propose."

John could only shake his head. He should have known his friend would not do anything in a normal way. Sherlock had faked his own death, after all.

"So, are you free tomorrow?" Sherlock asked.

"What, we have a new case already?"

"No, I need you to help me find a ring."

John looked at the man in front of him and marvelled at how much things had changed since their early days as colleagues. Sherlock Holmes had grown into a true friend and someone who had finally learned that love need not be an impediment to his intellect, but an asset. "I think I can fit it into my schedule," he said with a grin.


Author's note: How did you find this chapter from John's POV?